


He Knew He Loved Her

by ObsidianMichi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3938581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianMichi/pseuds/ObsidianMichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of shorts in which Iron Bull reflects on when he realized (or failed to realize) he loved Inquisitor Alix Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Knew He Loved Her

**Author's Note:**

> This story or all short stories involving the Trevelyan twins involve some original characters and twists to canon. The most major one is Alix's twin brother, Daren. (Who is an Inquisitor in his own right, with his own story in DA:I.) He's here in his companion role as a member of the Inner Circle. If you're attached to the idea of "JUST ONE!" then this story may not be for you.
> 
> Warning for mild sexual content.

He knew he loved her.

  
He knew he loved her that day in the Val Royeaux market when they caught a young nobleman trying to cop a feel on some unwilling flower girl. It wasn’t a shock, not really. This sort of thing happened often, everywhere, all over Thedas. Iron Bull wasn’t fool enough to believe it couldn’t occur in Par Vollen, it just happened less often. Here, where nobles could take what they liked from the small and the powerless, where there were fewer checks, and fewer means of retaliation, it was daily.

The Inquisitor strode right past him. She did not pause, did not wait, and did not ask any of them to follow. Not Dorian, not Varric, not Daren, her twin, not even him. Instead, she seized the noble by the shoulder and whipped him about. One hand slamming into the wall, the other clenching his balls, her nails dug deep and she lifted him up.

His back scraping against plaster and paint as he squealed, writhed in her hand. He paused only when she placed her forearm against his windpipe. Silenced under the pressure when she leaned in and hissed, “Enough.”

No room for discussion. No debate. The threat implied in tone alone.

Just like a Qunari.

Every man in their party winced and looked away, except him… and Daren--who, Bull realized later, must be used to this exact kind of behavior. They were made all the more uncomfortable when he laughed.

 

\---

 

He knew he loved her when she called him a catapult. It was in the Western Approach and they were considering battle plans for their assault on a Venatori fortress. The twins, in their infinite wisdom, loved to make every fight go sideways. They made their bets, counted their kills, and often spent their time traveling the long and dusty roads debating who did what to whom. They were always like that, whether it was with past lovers and flings or those they left rotting in the dirt on a warm summer’s day. They turned ingenious minds on every problem and it only, occasionally, involved wild badgers.

“What we really want here,” Daren said, “is a catapult.”

“Bull is all the catapult I need,” Alix replied.

Her brother’s eyes lifted off the map. Brushing a bit of sand off his thigh with a lazy hand, he straightened. A crooked grin curved his lips, eyebrows lifting suggestively as gloved fingertips thoughtfully traced the corner of his mouth. “You’ll recall I wasn’t asking about your bedroom pursuits.”

“It certainly was more information than I required, my dears,” Vivienne said from her position beside the canyon wall.

Alix’s eyes rolled. Then, she turned to him. Her eyes sparkled, cheeks burned a ruddy red by the overhead sun. Arms crossed over those fantastic tits. “What do you think, Bull?” she asked. “That arm got enough strength to launch me?”

He grinned. “Arm’s ready for whatever you need, boss.”

“Horns up, then,” she said.

He found his smile turn wistful when she strode past him, presumably to get another look at the castle. He hadn’t expected her to adopt the Chargers catch phrase. A small, warm ball fizzled in his stomach. “Yeah, right,” he murmured, eyes drawn by the slight sashay of her hips. “Horns up.”

 

\---

 

He knew he loved her when after they’d been caught in flagrante by Cullen, Cassandra, and Josephine, she told them in clear, no uncertain terms that he was important to her. The same way, he imagined, she would to her family. Not that he did worry about the Trevelyans, he didn’t. Not much anyway. Other than a few courtesy hits arranged through the House of Repose, he should be fine. A little embarrassment never bothered Alix, she shamelessly enjoyed invoking chaos in every bar, brothel, and salon throughout southern Thedas. It wasn’t until after the rest had left and he saw her teeth running across her lower lip, the way they always did when she considered causing a little mayhem, that he knew this would be going somewhere fun.

She turned back to him with a sly smile and asked, “What do you think, Bull? Threesome?”

He felt his own smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “For you, Kadan,” he said, “always.”

 

\---

 

He knew he loved her the first time he took the Inquisitor and her twin out for drinks with the Chargers, to get to know them better. He hadn’t actually invited Alix Trevelyan herself, he’d wanted a chance to suss her out a little through her brother. When she mysteriously turned up in the exact same bar, on the exact same night, at the exact same time, out of the six present on the street outside, he learned an important lesson about the twins. They communicated, they were intelligent, and they enjoyed tricking the world into spinning sideways. It should have been obvious, but the Iron Bull never had siblings. Not really, he had brothers in arms. All Qunari were family of a sort. All the Trevelyans who’d swarmed into Haven to support or use their sister reminded him a little bit of his old brothers, but the twins were different. They shared a bond, each acting as an extension of the other.

“Please,” Daren laughed. He kicked his boots up onto the table and tilted his chair back. A jaunty grin tilted on his mouth. “My dear sister is a firm believer in the old Chantry motto.”

Bull felt his heart squeeze. Not with worry for the Chargers or himself, though some was certainly there, but with some mild disappointment. He could accept working for her, even if she was a devout Chantry type. Hadn’t seemed it when they met. He knew first impressions, even his, could be misleading. Still, the truly devout always took a little joy out of living.

Daren took a swig from his mug, brows lifting as his blue—the very same vibrant blue as his twin—eyes twinkled. “One must _punish_ the wicked.” He grinned, twisting the words rolling off his tongue into a meaning which could only be taken as sexual. “Stand against the _corrupt_ and do not _falter_.”

“So,” Bull paused. Better to play it safe, he thought. “You’re saying she’s got a lot of stamina.”

“Well,” Daren shrugged. “She certainly has a great deal of creative energy.” The mug rose to his lips. “I’m sure you’ll discover it for yourself soon enough.”

Bull laughed. “I suppose I will.”

He’d discovered Daren Trevelyan enjoyed playing with words more than his sister. Alix was direct and to the point, the less Orlesian of the two. Or, he supposed, Ostwickian. They both admitted their mother was a noble from Orlais, tied to some powerful family or other. He didn’t keep track. Politics in Orlais changed every day. He’d pegged Daren as the kind who thrived in it, as chaotic as his sister but bending or breaking the rules to serve him in the name of some greater game. The Game, if Bull had to guess.

Alix, he discovered, ignored rules entirely. When she walked into a room, she made her own. She said what she thought and didn’t care about other people’s reactions. That was changing now, though. Her new role required a bit more sensitivity and he noticed she leaned on her brother often for support, let him speak for her when it came to dealing with the same nobles she’d spent her life running from. In their short time together, Bull had come to realize there was no one in Thedas who understood the Herald of Andraste better than her twin.

Daren twisted in his chair and Bull followed the other man’s gaze.

In the back, Alix leaned a bar maid against wall. One long finger trailing up a dirty cheek. Her other arm pressed above the shorter woman’s head. A lazy smile played on her lips. Those bright blue eyes fixed on the maid’s, then her eyes swung sideways to where they sat and shifted forward. Her mouth brushed up the inside of the woman’s ear, whispering.

The maid blushed, giggled, glancing toward their table with an enraptured expression.

Alix jerked her chin.

“Excuse me, my friend,” Daren said. “Duty calls.”

As Daren walked away, Bull found himself wondering what it would be like to be the one invited. Not more than a passing thought. Just intrigued, he decided. The twins were fascinating in their way, free in how they navigated, used, and fought the binding responsibilities of their position. He joked about the nobles, but there was more to these two than fancy parties and frilly cakes.

 _Just job,_ he reminded himself. No investment, no connection, they closed the Breach, he sent his reports, and in the end they all went their separate ways. _She’s the boss._ Qunari didn’t sleep with superior officers, they didn’t sleep with officers at all.

“Whatcha thinking, Chief?” Krem asked, plopping down into Daren’s vacated chair.

“What?” he asked. “Oh.” Glancing down at the mug in his hand, he lifted it and swallowed a gulp. “Nothing. Ale’s hog piss here, that’s all.”

“Really?” Krem grinned. “‘Cause you were staring.” He took a swig of his drink, wiping his mouth with a gloved hand. “Upset the Mayhem Twins are stealing another redhead?”

“No,” Iron Bull laughed. “I can find one of my own!”

“If you’ve a mind to,” Krem said.

“Yeah.”

Bull settled back into his chair, feeling it creak and groan beneath his weight. In Southern Thedas, the chairs were rarely built to support Qunari size. They were either too big or two small, rarely ever just right. Despite himself, his eyes flicked back to where Daren had joined Alix and the bar maid.

She’d moved to the right, giving her brother room. His fingers were sliding into the other woman’s curly hair, undoing the small ties which pinned it up. His back and broad shoulders blocked the outsider’s view of whatever his sister was doing. Something, Bull was sure. The maid’s lashes fluttered and her cheeks flamed an even brighter shade of red.

“The Mayhem Twins?” he asked.

“That’s what the boys are calling them,” Krem said. He tilted his bottle back.

“Leaving chaos in their wake wherever they go,” Bull grinned. “Fits. Good choice, Krem.”

“Glad you approve, Chief,” Krem replied cheerfully. “Not that we’d stop if you didn’t.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

On the other side of the tavern, Alix and Daren were luring the maid away. Quick, careful steps leading her off somewhere, a barn, a paid room upstairs, the kitchens, Bull wasn’t sure. Neither of them glanced back as they went, their attentions focused entirely on the woman between them. Only, occasionally, he noticed their eyes flicking up to each other with shared grins.

A strange jab struck his stomach. A twist in his throat.

“Well, Krem,” Bull said. “Time to find some entertainment of our own.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially just a short series of mini-drabbles about my Trevelyan, Alix and Iron Bull. I was trying to figure out her feelings on the subject since she went round and round about whether it would be Iron Bull or Cullen. And it was only after exploring it in fic format that I figured it out.
> 
> Daren and Alix are twins, and part of an AU series (I guess) involving several different members of the Trevelyan family who I have dubbed "The Merry Trevelyans". (And probably involve a lot of other Inquistors as NPCs, including Eirwen in her companion format.)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
